Second Chances
by Rshearouse
Summary: First fanfic ever so please be at least a little kind. Just your basic time travel fic. Eragon goes back in time and gets a second chance at his adventure. E/A. A little funny and kind of sad in the beginning.
1. Chapter 1

Eragon gazed longingly at the diminishing speck of emerald green from the Stern of the ship. _Do you ever wish you could have a second chance, Saphira, a second chance at happiness?_

Saphira, who slid lazily in the wake of the elvin vessel, gazed up at him and blew a sad puff of smoke from her nostrils. _Yes, little one, I have had similar thoughts since Brom's death at the hands of the Ra'zac. Though I am not certain whether these thoughts are the creations solely of my own mind or a result of your own brooding seeping into my consciousness. I am prone to believe a combination of the two is at work._

Eragon loosed a short humorless laugh and shook his head. _A result of our bond I suppose. Not only do our thoughts influence the other, but we also share similar feelings, few of which are completely happy with__ our past acts. _To himself, Eragon began pondering what he _would_ do if he was given the opportunity to relive the previous years from the moment he found his partner's egg. _Well I most certainly wouldn't let Garrow or Brom die, and I would very much like to speak with Brom as my father. Maybe I could win Arya's affections-_

_Little one, it does the mind no good to ponder what could have been. It only makes one lose focus on the present course. _Saphira chided him on his wishful thinking. _You have had a trying morning. Why don't you go below deck and rest?_

It wasn't until Saphia suggested he rest that Eragon realized how tired he truly was. Yawning he thought to Saphira, _You are right. My mind is addled by the morning's events, and I am not myself. Wake me so that I may bathe before the evening meal._ When Saphira sent her agreement, Eragon descended into the bowels of the ship and arrived at his cabin.

Inside was dimly lit by a single flameless lantern half shuttered on the right wall of the room just over a small desk and chair. In the back left corner of the small cabin was a hammock woven from strips of long dried grass. The weave used to form the hammock reminded Eragon of the small grass boat Arya had made on their journey back from Helgrind. He felt sorrow and longing well up inside of him at the thought of her and how he would most likely not see her for centuries maybe decades if they were lucky, never again if they were less fortunate.

As he lay himself down in the hammock, he thought back on his talk with Saphira about redoing the past. He began to compose a spell in his mind that he thought could bend time and allow him the opportunity to try again at his life. When he began to doze off due to the swaying of the ship, he decided to discuss his spell with Saphira the next day for he was unsure the toll the spell would have on his energy reserves. As he drifted off to sleep he failed to notice the glow in the cabin had gotten substantially brighter as a cluster of fifteen or so spirits passed through the wall into Eragon's chamber. From his mind they stole the spell he created choosing to work their own magic with his spell. As their spell's magic took hold, they disappeared from the room with the scent of ozone the only sign of their meddling.

Eragon was awoken by a harsh grating noise. Eragon noticed two things almost immediately: first he was no longer in a hammock on a rocking ship, and second there was a window and outside that window was the night sky. The grating noise stopped suddenly only a second two after it had started. Eragon looked around in wonder as he realized where he had awoken. He was in Garrow's home in Carvahall; a home that had been destroyed several years earlier. The grating resumed, and Eragon found its source with relative ease as he began to have a completely preposterous idea as to what happened come into his head. The source of the grating was a large ovular sapphire blue stone on a shelf in his room. It began to wobble off the shelf and fall, but before it could strike the floor, Eragon shook himself out of his shocked state to dart over and catch Saphira's egg with a speed few elves could match. _Well on the bright side of things it appears I retained my physical abilities._

He cradled the egg as he would an infant while it shook and trembled. Finally a large crack appeared, then another and another. As Saphira's newborn head emerged from the egg, Eragon felt another mind brush his. When the consciousness entered his mind he felt the tiny dragoness's glare on him and heard in his thoughts, _Eragon, may I ask why you are so large?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Forgive me for the really short chapter today. I had Christmas at my grandparents and I'm actually having to type this on my iPad instead of my PC, so it's going to be short and probably riddled with errors. I just wanted to get something written today; I'll give you guys a nice long chapter tomorrow. I promise at least 2k words next chapter. Thank you guys for the reviews and the compliments; you have no idea how much I appreciate them. I should be able to get out a chapter a day until January 6, and then I'll probably slow down to a couple of chapters a week. Trust me I know how annoying it is to have an author who updates at irregular intervals, so I'll try not to be 'that guy.' I probably won't do note like this every chapter so to the reviewers just know that my thanks go out to you with every chapter and you guys are the reason I'm continuing to write.**

**** Eragon smiled at her thoughts. _At least you still have your memories even if you're small. I think I would have gone mad had you not remembered me._**  
**

_Little one, what are you talking about? _ Saphira cocked her head and huffed obviously confused by his thoughts.

_Saphira, I think we may have been acted upon by a strange magic. I believe we were sent back through time to the beginning of our journey. _While the two were conversing, Saphira had, with Eragon's assistance, freed herself from the egg and began cleaning herself of stray fragments of the blue material.

_Let us discuss this further after I have had a proper meal. I would appreciate it if you would provide me with meat until I am large enough to hunt for myself._

_Of course. If memory serves however, that should only be for a day or two. _With that Eragon set off to fetch Saphira some dried meat like he had done a few years previous. He grabbed several strips of jerky and returned to find Saphira pacing on his bed. He found his old knife and cut a chunk out of the first strip. Saphira promptly snatched it from his hand, and when she did so, her snout grazed Eragon's palm. At this touch a searing pain filled Eragon's body suddenly causing him to double over and drop the knife on the bed. Just as quickly as it had arrived the pain receded to his palm then vanished completely leaving his palm glowing just like it had when he had received the mark from Saphira.

Saphira sent him a wave of concern through their link which was quickly overwhelmed by hunger. _Eragon, if you are alright may I have some more?_

_Your concern is greatly appreciated. _Eragon responded sarcastically while he began to feed Saphira, who was eating faster than he could cut the meat.

Finally, as Eragon's meager supply of jerky waned, her hunger began to diminish to the point where, when offered the last slice of meat, she actually hesitated. _I feel like I just ate half of my weight. _

__Eragon snorted._ That's because you did, Saphira. Now that you have satisfied your stomach for the time being, I think the most pressing matter is how we are to handle this situation. In my opinion I think that I should speak with Brom as quickly as possible. His wisdom will be necessary if we are to avoid botching our opportunity to start over._

_I agree, little one, though I also think you may not want to alter our actions from the past so readily. Danger we can anticipate is little danger at all, but the second we begin to change our actions, the actions of our enemies will become steadily less predictable._

_You are right. I just hope we can change enough of our past to prevent Garrow's death. _He began to worry that he may not get that chance. _We have had enough talk for one night; let's sleep. In the morning we can discuss how we will contact Brom._ Just imagining meeting him again sent Eragon's spirits soaring, but the weariness from recent events soon overcame him, and he drifted off to the world of his waking dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

Eragon's dreams had apparently not been improved by time travel. They had if anything become more vivid. He saw before him a woman bleeding in on a table in a dark room. She rolled her head and her raven hair shifted revealing a face he would have recognized anywhere and one he hoped he wouldn't see in this condition, Arya's. She was unconscious, but as he watched, a man eragon recognized immediately as Durza entered the dark room. He approached the side of the table and grasped Arya's jaw roughly. "Vakna," he hissed. This image was one Eragon had prepared himself for so instead of shock all he felt was white hot rage that Arya was having to endure this torture once again, but what he saw next caused him physical pain. As Arya's emerald orbs fluttered open, Eragon's vision shifted to an image he didn't feel was occurring yet like he had Arya's but one he felt was fast approaching and completely unavoidable. He saw once again his uncle's house in flames and off to one side he glimpsed to men, one much older than the other, and a young sapphire dragon who could only be Saphira. Judging by her size this event was only a few months away, about the same time the Ra'zac would arrive in search of the egg. _No_, Eragon thought. _I'm supposed to keep this from happening, but why are there two people there? Only Saphira and I were there when the house was burning. Is the other man Brom? How could I let this happen?_

Eragon woke breathing heavily. He glanced out the window and saw the horizon had just begun to lighten. He looked for Saphira and found her curled beside him with her sapphire eyes just beginning to crack open. He reached for her mind and sent her a wave of hopelessness along with images from his dream the previous night. _What am I supposed to do? I can't let Garrow die again, but if my dream is anything to judge by I must._

_Little one, you didn't actually see Garrow dead in your dream did you? _Eragon was about to respond but she cut him off. _No you did not, so why do you think he was?_

_I just have this feeling that there was nothing good to come out of that blaze. It felt like death._

She sent him a wave of pity over their mental link before saying, _Well, let us not dwell too much on your vision of the farm. We cannot put stock in what hasn't happened yet. What we need to do now is focus on what we are going to do about your face._

At first Eragon thought she was joking but her tone suggested otherwise. _What do you mean?_

_I mean that you still look like an elf you great buffoon. However great of an improvement the blood oath celebration was to your appearance does nothing to change the fact that you're supposed to look human._

_Oh. _Was all he could manage as reality hit him. He dashed over to his shelves again and found a small mirror he kept there. He gazed at his reflection and drew upon his magic. He wove a spell around himself that changed the tips of his ears, the slant of his eyes, and the bones of his face and put them into positions nearly identical to those of his former self. He gazed at his 'new' visage and found he preferred his elfish appearance as opposed to his human one. _Well I guess I'll be able to change back relatively soon._

He continued with the beginning of the day almost just as he had previously. He snuck out into the woods with Saphira but instead of filching the supplies needed to make her a shelter he chose to use magic and form one out of a tree. The results were even more concealed than the previous one had been.

After he created the shelter, he returned to the house and steeled himself for seeing Garrow alive once more. He reentered his room and lay wide eyed on his bed for almost an hour before he heard his family begin to stir. He was on his feet and at his door the second he heard movement. As he opened his door he looked down the hall to see Roran yawning as he stumbled through his door and Garrow hobble out of his room. Eragon had to use all of his willpower to avoid crying as he gazed upon the man who he had watched die only a few years previous.

"Mornin'," Garrow and Roran mumbled to Eragon who could only gape at his uncle until he felt Saphira gently nudge him with her mind prompting him to move and behave at least semi-normal. When he got to the kitchen, Roran had already lit a fire and Garrow was getting ready to heat the previous night's stew over the blaze. Eragon went to the cupboard and retrieved three bowls and spoons to place on the table. Garrow filled each bowl with freshly warmed soup as everyone sat down and quietly began breakfast.

"So," Eragon began, "when are you going back in town to see Katrina again, Roran?" fishing for an opportunity to see Brom

Roran glanced up from his soup and replied with a hint of annoyance, "You know as well as I do that Sloan would sooner kill me than let me see his daughter. I would like you to give her a message for me today if father can spare you from the farm."

"Well I don't see what we could do with him here that we can't do without him. Fine, Roran, use him as your delivery boy for another of your love letters."

Roran lit up with his father's reply and ran to his room only to return a second later with a small square of folded parchment. "I asked father to write this for me-"

"And my goodness if it's not the sappiest love letter I've ever seen," Garrow joked. "Honestly boy, if you make me write another one of those damned letters for you I'll have half a mind to write the exact opposite of what you tell me to."

Roran turned bright red and finished the rest of his instructions to Eragon hurriedly before any more stabs at his infatuation could be made. After impressing upon Eragon the importance of his being discrete in giving Katrina the letter, Roran gave Eragon the paper and sent him on his way down the road.

Eragon waited until he was out of sight of the house before scanning the nearby road for other travelers, and upon finding the area abandoned, began to run with the speed of an elf towards Carvahall. A trip that had once taken him several hours took only ten minutes. When the village came into view, he slowed to a walk so as to avoid attracting unwanted attention. As he entered the village, he saw the villagers of Carvahall as they were before joining the war. Many of them were much more carefree and others were alive again. Eragon decided to cast a spell on the letter and send it upon the wind through the open window he could see in Sloan's house and have it land upon Katrina's dresser. _There we go one task down; now all I have to do is speak with my father._ Eragon smiled at how simple it would have sounded if he had been in any other situation, but he knew that his next task would be a very difficult one.

He set out for Brom's house on the outskirts of the main village. When he arrived he could sense the man inside of the small dwelling. He checked to see if Saphira was still in contact with his mind should Brom wish to speak with her. He knocked on the oak door and waited.

Eragon heard some shuffling of papers and a poorly disguised curse in dwarvish then the door opened. Before Eragon stood Brom, just as he looked in Eragon's memories. He felt tears brimming at the corners of his eyes as he looked his father in the eye for the first time knowing their relation.

"Well don't just stand there like an idiot. What do you want?" Brom said in the same gruff tone Eragon had heard almost all of his life.

"Well, Brom, I wanted to ask you some questions about the Riders. You told the story of the Fall while the traders were in town and it piqued my curiousity."

"I can tell by your eyes that this is going to take a very long time. You may as well come in and make yourself comfortable." Brom stepped back in the house and gestured for Eragon to enter. It was exactly as Eragon remembered, but now when he looked closely at the books, he saw a few marked in the elves script. He seated himself in a chair across the room from Brom and prepared himself for what he was about to do.

"Brom, I know you're not going to believe what I am about to tell you, but please save any questions or comments until the end of my tale."

"I very much doubt you could tell me something I wouldn't regard as at least plausible, but please continue." Brom leaned back and lit his pipe looking at Eragon expectantly.

_How do I convince him I'm telling the truth, _he asked Saphira.

_Use the Ancient Language. He will have to believe you then. What you did without me for nigh on 16 years I have no idea._

Eragon shook his head internally and addressed Brom in the language of the elves, "I am not certain how, but I was sent back in time. I am Eragon but from a few years in the future."

For the first time in his life Eragon witnessed Brom completely shocked. He was capable of uttering one word, "How?"

"It is difficult for me to decide where to begin my explanation, but I suppose it will be best if I start from the beginning." Eragon spent the better part of an hour telling Brom of his adventures speaking only in the Ancient Language. When Eragon reached the end of his tale he said, "Brom, one thing I have not mentioned is a piece of information I gleaned from Oromis on my second visit to Ellesmera. I finally learned the identity of my father. I know who you are, Father."

Upon hearing Eragon call him "Father," Brom had apparently had enough waiting for Eragon to finish, and he let his emotions burst forth and he grasped Eragon by his shoulders. "For so long I have waited for you to be able to call me that. I know now the joy that has been deprived from me for nearly a century. Eragon, my son, if half of the deeds you have described to me are true I am the most proud father in Alagaesia. You have been given an unprecedented opportunity to correct the mistakes in your past to right the wrongs dealt to you by your lack of knowledge or time or training. There are very few men who wouldn't kill for a second chance." He began weeping when he called Eragon his son, and he had yet to stop. Eragon's vision blurred and he realized he was sobbing as well. Their tears were not those of sorrow but tears of elation.

Eragon felt a pressure on his consciousness and realized he had forgotten to introduce Brom to Saphira. "Brom, Saphira wants to speak with you."

A look of rapture crossed Brom's face as Saphira touched Brom's mind. _I am beyond happy to speak to the father of my rider once more. You were sorely missed._

"Eragon, although I'm overjoyed, we need to talk about what must be done to ensure Galbatorix falls once more. I have an idea as to what we must do, but I think you may not be pleased to hear it." Brom looked into Eragon's eyes with a look of pity as he said, "I think that we cannot change our actions in Carvahall as much as you would like. There has to be a reason for the villagers to leave, and if we kill the Ra'zac too soon, Carvahall will not participate in the war, and from your tale, the Varden would not win the war without Roran and the villagers. Eragon, it saddens me a great deal to tell you this, but we cannot save Garrow. If we did it would alter history too much and the future will become drastically different."


	4. Chapter 4

Eragon blinked back tears when Brom told him of the necessity of Garrow's death. He knew Brom's logic was sound, but it was an entirely different thing to accept it without resistance. All Eragon could manage was "Why must fate be so cruel?" before he began openly weeping. Saphira provided him with what little comfort she could but he wept for several minutes before he was able to regain his composure enough to speak without his voice breaking. "What should we do? Should we wait until the Ra'zac show up to leave or should we leave town immediately. No matter which we choose I believe Garrow's fate will remain the same."

"We should wait and leave after the Ra'zac kill Garrow. We can go from here to Gil'ead, and rescue Arya. I know your feelings for her are intense, and it probably pains you greatly knowing of her torture, so I assume that's on the top of your list after we get on our way. Then I think we should meet Jeod in tierm so he will know you and feel compelled to help you cousin. After that I think we should see where we stand time wise. If there is adequate time before the invasion of Farther Dur, I think we should visit the elves and convince the queen to send warriors to assist the Varden and prevent a great many men from dying."

Eragon's blood boiled with the thought of Arya's torture, and his cheeks flushed at the mention of his obvious feelings for the raven haired elf. He immediately began to wonder what Arya would think of him now that he had received the knowlege from the eldunari and had fought in a war for almost two years. Would she still see him as the untested youth he had been when they had met, or would she view him as an equal? He hoped for the latter because then he may yet have a chance at winning her affection. _Little one, your reunion with her should be handled most cautiously; you do not want her to think you infatuated with her from the beginning. She will just spurn your affections as she did before. You must gain her trust, and only then will you hope to be able to woo her._

_I know, but I fear I may be unable to control myself. You will have to help me mask my feelings for her. _

_Of course I will help you, but you must not be stupid when I'm away either for I cannot be near you every hour of every day._

_Saphira, I am not a child in need of constant supervision._

_There are times when I question that assertion. _She said in a mocking tone.

Eragon harrumphed and returned his attention to Brom. "Eragon, you said you defeated Galbatorix with the True Name; can you recall what it was? That knowledge could end this war before it even starts."

Eragon started to say the Name, but right before he uttered the first syllable, he forgot what he was about to say. He knew he should remember the Name, but when he thought about it, the memory was muddled and confused. He had felt this muddled sensation before when he had been forced to forget the Vault of Souls and its contents. Eragon groaned, "It seems that whatever magic transported me back in time failed to deem that memory worth preserving."

Brom frowned forming a deep furrow across his brow. "Well I presume whatever being sent you back didn't want you to be omnipotent from the start, and I guess that would make for a rather short song for the bards." At the end of his statement, he laughed humorlessly.

Eragon swore vehemently until he said after his final oath, "I guess that for now we wait for the Ra'zac to come knocking on our doors, and I spend as much time with my uncle as possible before his death." Eragon barely manages to choke out the last word without crying again.

_Little one, you dealt with his death before, and you must deal with it again. War causes a great many deaths and your uncle's death is one of the many that are necessary for the success of the greater good. Do not mourn his loss but celebrate the fact that he will be remembered for his sacrifice._

_I will try, but I fear that is far easier said than done._

_You are far stronger than you give yourself credit for Eragon. Modesty is a virtue but to belittle yourself is unbecoming of you. You must be confident in your ability._

_Thank you, Saphira. _Eragon smiled and sent a wave of gratitude toward her. Eragon said his goodbyes to Brom who hurried off into a side room and retrieved a package Eragon knew to contain Zar'roc. As he offered Eragon the sword he said, "You need a sword of elfish make with your strength, and hopefully you may drive this through Durza's black heart once more." As Eragon thanked him profusely, Brom told him to practice his swordplay as much as he could so his prodigious skill did not atrophy in his wait for the Ra'zac, and Eragon stepped outside. He walked into town to Morn's tavern to grab himself a small roll of bread and a few slices of jerky. He exited the building chewing on the last of the jerky and glanced at the sky. The sun had passed its apex and was already beginning its descent to the mountains on the western side of the valley.

He figured that if he ran back to Garrow's farm he would arrive at a time appropriate for a human to have journeyed to town stayed no more than half an hour and walked back. He jogged at a human pace until he was out of eyesight from the village, and then he picked his pace up to a speed approaching that of a horse at full gallop. Had anyone seen him he would have been revealed as a nonhuman in an instant, but as he had done on his journey that morning, he reached his mind far in every direction searching for the light of a human mind.

He arrived on the farm and immediately spotted Roran and Garrow laboring in the fields. He realized it would seem odd if he arrived with Zar'roc, so he avoided their sight and snuck into the woods to deposit the sword in Saphira's tree house for her to watch over. He returned to the road leading from Carvahal into the farm so as to appear to be just arriving. He greeted his cousin and uncle joining them in their work. Roran Glanced at him expectantly and Eragon said, "She got the letter. I couldn't find her but her window was open so I climbed up and placed it in her room for her to find." Roran looked irritated that Eragon hadn't been able to give her the letter and observe her reaction, but he refrained from voicing his concerns simply nodding towards Eragon in thanks.

The afternoon proceeded without incident, and when the sun was setting after dinner, Eragon snuck out of the house while invisible from a spell to visit Saphira. They needed not speak; only bask in the other's presence fusing their minds together. They stayed as such for some time until Eragon began to feel the tiredness from his run to Carvahall and the long hours of conversation with Brom, but before he returned to his bed for the night, he retrieved Zar'roc from the shelter and unwrapped the cloth from around the crimson blade. _I never thought to wield this sword again after the Burning Plains. It has both saved my life and very nearly taken it as well. I do not wish to carry it longer than I must. When we enter Ellesmera I would like to re-forge Brisingr for I am not meant to carry this instrument of despair._

_That would be most wise, but until the opportunity presents itself you must accept this weapon as your own because its quality is more important than its past. _Saphira pointed out to Eragon. He grunted his agreement but said no more as he drew the blade and began running through the forms that had by now become ingrained in his muscle memory. He decided the weapon would do for now, but even though it was an exceptional fit for his fighting style, it was not crafted specifically for him as Brisingr had been and was therefore slightly imperfect. He then emptied all of his vast energy reserves into the ruby in the sword's pommel save for what little he would need to return home undetected. He then repackaged the sword and placed it back into Saphira's shelter.

Over the next few months Eragon fell into a pattern. Every day he would work in the fields with Garrow and Roran save for the almost weekly visit to Carvahall to deliver Roran's little notes to Katrina. On those days he would deliver the note and then visit his father. Some days they would practice magic, filling in the few gaps of Eragon's education in Gramarye, and on others Brom would share with eragon memories ranging from Brom's own training with Oromis and Glaedr to conversations with Eragon's mother, Selena. Once, Eragon decided to share with Brom some of his experiences. He showed his father the battles he had participated in, his defeating of Galbatorix, and many other smaller events, but the last image Eragon showed was of Brom's tomb. When he saw himself encased in diamond he laughed and said dryly, "I don't think I deserved that great of a memorial, but I appreciate the effort."

In the evenings and sometimes well into the night, Eragon would slip out of the house and into the woods to re-familiarize himself with Zar'roc and to converse with Saphira. After every one of these training sessions, he poured the fire from his limbs into the ruby amassing for himself a store of energy almost rivaling Aren. Saphira grew at a rate identical to her previous body. By the time the Ra'zac were expected to arrive, she was once again a formidable beast though she still lacked the ability to breathe fire and she was still quite small compared to what she had at one time been. Eragon had in the past months resigned himself to losing Garrow once again, and when he woke the morning he was to travel to Carvahall with Roran to see him off it was with a heavy heart that he bid Garrow farewell knowing that he would not see his uncle alive again.

When Eragon said his goodbyes to Roran in front of Horst's smithy, he couldn't meet his cousin's eyes burdened as he was by the knowledge of Garrow's inevitable doom. "Don't be sad, cousin. I shall return to you in no time and if I'm lucky it may be with Katrina." Eragon could only nod while Roran turned and set off on his journey.

Eragon went to meet with Brom to ensure that all was in order for their impending flight from town. Brom had procured one horse from the stables at Therinsford this time instead of two. Eragon immediately recognized the snow white stallion as Snowfire bringing a smile to his face in spite of the grim day ahead of him. He and Eragon had also had the time to create a properly molded saddle for Saphira instead of the makeshift one they had previously made. Brom had also prepared a letter for Roran similar to the one he had left previously warning him of the dangers that lay ahead of him.

Eragon stayed in Brom's house that day, and the next morning they travelled to Garrow's farm to inspect the destruction left from the Ra'zac. When they arrived, the house was burning as it was before with a plume of dark smoke rising from the charring remains of the house. Fighting back tears, Eragon dug through the smoldering remains of the structure until he found Garrow who was unconscious with injuries identical to the ones previously inflicted upon him. "I'm sorry, Uncle. I can't save you, but I can make it end for you without any more suffering on your part."

Steeling himself for what he was about to do, Eragon opened himself to the flow of magic within him, and with an infinitesimal amount of energy, whispered a spell designed to kill without pain or suffering. He felt tears streaming down his face and guilt welling up within him for he knew he could have saved the man almost as easily. He looked up at the smoke and he knew the inhabitants of Carvahall would notice the pillar so black against the clear icy blue of the sky. "You did what you could to prevent his suffering, Eragon. I know this upsets you, but it couldn't be avoided."

Eragon said nothing, but instead grabbed a piece of broken glass and gazed at his reflection in it. He whispered a spell returning his face to its natural state. He gazed around at the ruins of the farm a feeling of pure unbridled rage blossomed in his chest. _I am not the boy I was when this all began. This time I am a Rider in full, and we shall teach our enemies what it truly means to feel fear. I will not fail; I _cannot_ fail._

Saphira growled her agreement as Eragon hopped on her back straight from the ground. "Let us be off, Father. What's the fastest way to Gil'ead." Eragon grinned in spite of his anger. Just the thought of the beautiful emerald eyed elf who waited for him in the dungeon of the city was enough to fill him with both joy and a desire for revenge on her captor, Durza.


End file.
